


Shattered

by theechosea



Series: Starling Clarity [5]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Because Hunger Games, Book/Movie 2: Catching Fire, F/M, Fluff and Angst, POV Peeta Mellark, Quarter Quell, everlark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 06:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3518642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theechosea/pseuds/theechosea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trying to take a break from reviewing tribute tapes on the way to the Capitol for the Quarter Quell Peeta and Katniss are interrupted by Haymitch and she gives him a piece of her mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shattered

“I think we can stop this one,” Katniss exits playback right as Enobaria bites into the neck of the last tribute, and releases a shudder, “Ugh.”  
“Haymitch did say she--”  
“I know, just—I don't want to think about that coming at us.”  
“I think you're quicker on the draw than she is on the leap.”  
She chews on that for a moment and doesn't say anything, “Let's take a break from review for a while.”  
“No opposition.” I say. I'm not sure how late it is by this point but even if it's night we both know we won't sleep. Hours of highlight reels of years upon years of tribute kills are not conducive to resting, and eating is also not...on the table. Capitol citizens sit there with canapes and roast duck, champagne, suckling pig and--  
“I can't believe they watch this stuff at banquets,” Katniss says.  
“I was thinking something similar.”  
She scrolls through the options on the screen, “Oh, wow, there's a biography on Caesar. What could they possibly have to say about him?” She puts on the hoity Capitol accent, “Here in Caesar's house where he has more closets for suits than he has teeth...”  
“and an entire room dedicated to hair.” I add.  
“His own personal teeth whitener.”  
“Oh, of course, of course,” I say, “Love it!”  
“That was just like him.”  
We collapse in giggles which must have been loud because both Haymitch and Effie appear at the door.  
“You shouldn't be having this much fun,” Haymitch warns, “What's going on?”  
We're still laughing too hard for the moment to answer.  
“Oh, dear,” Effie says, and the fact she has that same Capitol accent does nothing to help, “Do we need to call someone?”  
“If you two found my--” Haymitch starts then stops.  
“No. No,” I manage as Katniss buries her face in a pillow, “It's Caesar...” I cough, “We were talking about Caesar.”  
Effie looks concerned and Haymitch curious as Katniss wipes her eyes with her hands. I stand up and walk over to the doorway and take Effie's hands, “It's okay, really. We're fine. It's just been a lot of tapes and we needed a break. There's a lot of emotion.”  
Effie hugs me then, “Oh, my dear,” she whispers, and pets the back of my head. I realize she must have been getting undressed and put her wig back on hastily because it slips a little as she hugs me, and she straightens it as she pulls back.  
“Are you okay?” I ask her.  
“Yes,” she nods, and walks back down the corridor, holding her hair.  
“Well done,” Haymitch remarks, giving me a sideways glance.  
“I didn't—”  
“I'm screwing with you. She's been that way on and off all night. I shouldn't have let her have wine. I thought it would help.” He slaps my shoulder, “What's this about the ponce of a Flickerman?”  
“We found his biography,” Katniss explains, “We were going to watch it.”  
“Which one?” Haymitch asks.  
“There's more than one?” Katniss reactivates the screen which had gone into sleep mode.  
“Oh, yes,” Haymitch walks back into the room with me, “They seem to do a new one every five years or so. Give me that.”  
He takes the controller from Katniss and flops into the single chair on the side of the couch. His drink is in a bottle so much less risk of spilling than in a glass, though half the time he manages not to do that either. I sit back on the couch.  
“Na-uh,” Haymitch says, “Snuggle. You need to get back in the habit. It's got to be natural. Star-crossed lovers, soon to be husband and wife, well, you would have been, had this bullshit not happened. They'll still want to do a bunch of interviews with the two of you together. You'll be expected to be all comfy cozy.”  
“Haymitch--” Katniss starts.  
“He's right,” I point out.  
“Of course you're going to take his side,” she mutters.  
“It doesn't make it any less correct.”  
There's a momentary temptation to say “Just close your eyes and think of Gale” but I push it away. It would just make matters worse, aside from being exceedingly petty, “Just pretend you've had a nightmare,” I tell her instead.  
She pulls her legs up onto the couch tucking them under one of the pillows, and rests her head against my shoulder and I move so that my arm is around her. She puts one hand on my leg, and takes my other hand with hers. It's an easy and comfortable position and I feel myself relax with the rhythm of her breathing under our hands. We were in a similar pose for the closing interview after the 74th games I realize, catching our reflection in the cabinet under the video screen, and a reminder that we're practicing a pose, to be staged like dolls for the Capitol's entertainment once more. It seems decades ago right now though, even though it wasn't quite a year, and once again I'm traveling into the Capitol knowing that I won't come out again.  
“Beautiful,” Haymitch says, offering his bottle towards us like a toast.  
I don't have to see Katniss' face to know that she's glaring at him. She pulls herself up from the hug, “Get out!” she says, “Out!” she picks up one of the pillows and she throws it at him.  
“Easy now, sweetheart! You're going to spill my drink and you know what that means!”  
“Oh, what? What does that mean?! I'll take the whole thing and I'll smash it over your head! Everything was nice and calm and easy for once! You know how little of that we get? We were going to watch something fun! And then you come back in here with your poses and your bullSHIT and ruin everything! JUST GO!” she backs Haymitch out of the room with a continued onslaught of tossed pillows, books and plates. I know there's no point trying to stop her, and if I'm being honest I thoroughly agree.  
“Fine, fine, take it easy, princess!” Haymitch looks at me for help, having caught one of the pillows and using it to block some of the things as he makes it to the door, but I just stand with my arms crossed watching him, “I'll remember this!” he warns.  
“Go ahead,” I tell him. In a few weeks I'll be in the arena, what can he possibly do worse than that in the mean time?  
I carefully cross to where Katniss is, pushing away shards of smashed plates with my feet so there's a clear path back across the room. She's shaking, and I realize once I get to her that it's not just anger. She's crying. I hesitate then. She doesn't like showing this sort of emotion. She's going to also be very angry that she's given away what she perceives as weakness.  
“Do you want a hug or do you want me to leave you alone?”  
“No,” she says.  
“That doesn't...”  
She throws her arms around me, and I hug her back, holding my hand on the back of her head and then resting my head on the top of hers as she cries into my chest. Slowly, I guide us so that we're sitting on the floor, glad that I manage not to topple us over and we lay among the fluttering books and broken plates wrapped in each others' arms until we fall asleep.


End file.
